The Promise Kept
by Kurokaze-sama
Summary: With the final battle complete, the owner of the Red Book returns home. But for some reason, he feels something's missing. Oneshot. WARNING: HUGE MANGA SPOILERS!


**Author's Note:**

**If you're reading this, congratulations. You get ten points.**

**Ok, well, I'm giving this place another chance. I hope that you all enjoy this, like a lot of other Gash fans seemed to. Basically, this is branching off of chapter 322, which is the chapter before the end of Konjiki no Gash. **_**IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED THE SERIES, I WOULD NOT RECOMMEND READING THIS. AT ALL.**_**'Cause there's a bunch of spoilers n' such … I think. XD Oh well. Please try to enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned KnG or KnGB, this actually would have happened/been animated. But it wasn't. And it didn't. So I don't.**

_Silence._

That was all that remained.

The fresh, green meadow had been wounded with various spells, staining the blades of vegetation in dirt. A bright blue ceiling allowed the sun to shine through it, soaking the field in an insuppressible light, despite the occasional cloud. A small wind brushed the landscape, sending a certain pile of black ashes airborne. Suddenly, a great heaviness hung over the grass.

The boy felt the tiniest trickle of a tear sink down his cheek. After a failed attempt to wipe it, he clenched his fists. Something, he found, was amiss. Shouldn't there have been a red book in his hand?

"Brago …"

He glanced over to the side of him. Sherry Belmond. In the excitement of victory, he had almost forgotten she was even there.

"Brago …"

The woman had sunk to her knees, leaving chlorophyll to dye her dress hem a mossy green. She had failed him. With her head buried in her hands, Sherry felt as if the whole world were collapsing upon her. Brago had done so much for her; from saving the life and soul of her dearest friend to teaching her to fend off the evils of the war. And all he asked from her in return was her support. The dark demon wanted to guide his people into the harsh battle of tomorrow. But, in the end, he just ended up saving her … again.

She had vowed upon her very own life that favors she had done for him would be returned; she would do anything in her power to accomplish such a goal. And as tears began to pour down her face, Takamine Kiyomaro knew that it was finally over. At least he could fulfill his own promise.

Thunderous pounding sounded in the distance. The grass blades of the field were pushed away as a wind slowly moved in, accompanied by the strengthening of the noise that the throbbing air created. A helicopter was traveling towards them. It was awhile before the former bookowners registered that their means of departure was approaching them.

Kiyomaro was the first to move. As the gust from the aircraft became more violent, he staggered towards his suit jacket, which was tossed around by the landing of the helicopter. When the hovering vehicle touched down, an elderly man stepped to the ground.

"Miss Sherry, Kiyomaro-sama," he began. "Let us depart." The elderly man tugged a bit at his suit, which had suffered a bit of wind damage.

"Jii …" Sherry finally looked up from her crouch to find him, as well as Kiyomaro, next to the aircraft, ready to depart. She frowned at her legs, glued to the ground. "I'll be right there …" she whispered.

Kiyomaro gave her a sympathetic stare. He walked over to her destination and offered his hand. After a bit of hesitation, Sherry gently turned her head to meet her opponent's. Though her vision was mildly impaired by her waterworks, it didn't take long for the French mistress to realize that he was struggling with the same problem.

"Let's go," the boy simply said. A moment after she allowed the words to echo throughout her mind, Sherry's hand met Kiyomaro's. Together, they walked back to the helicopter.

"Welcome back, Miss Sherry," Jii said, truly addressing the both of them. "No serious injuries, I trust."

The man opened his mouth to release another thought. But it was only then that he actually got a good look at the pair. Kiyomaro strained his eyes towards him. They spoke a gentle command of silence, and when Jii attempted to get a word out of Sherry, he found the exact same request.

A few moments later, the helicopter started up again. The bookowners were seated in the rear of the craft on a fine red leather bench while the servant was settled in a chair of similar materials. It was not long before the sea of grass, which now lay miles beneath them, turned into patches of civilization. Kiyomaro stared out of the window, observing this simple pleasure with little fascination. Sherry's eyes were solely fixed on the floor of the aircraft. She couldn't help but wonder what would have been.

_What could I have … done differently?_ She asked herself. _What would have won him the throne …?_ The woman gave an internal sigh, so as to not disturb the other males around her. She had been seated for mere minutes, but the silence was already killing her. If anything, she just wanted to go home, take a nice, extensive, refreshing bath, perhaps by the sound of a violin, and pour tears over the various photos she had managed to capture of her black furred partner.

_Brago …_ Sherry felt another sobbing come on. _I'm … so sorry._

"He fought well."

Sherry turned her head in surprise; the stillness had been broken.

Kiyomaro stared at the ground, taking brief glances at the one he was addressing. "He fought …valiantly." He attempted to choose his words as carefully as possible, for as dearly as he wanted the thought to escape, he wanted not to upset her.

Sherry shifted her field of vision back to the floor. "You, too."

There was a secondary silence that followed. The aircraft could now being located over Bordeaux, skipping over forests and vineyards, stopping only for a limited time to hit the main city. Jii was silent at the pilot's seat, waiting for the next word to be spoken. For some reason, he wanted a sense of peace to rule over the two.

Sherry twiddled with her thumbs a bit. "I hope …" Kiyomaro watched the previous owner of the black book as her eyes wavered. The woman then addressed him directly, her stare meeting his own. "I hope … that Gash will be able to rule over the Makai … as the benevolent king he intended to be."

The teen's eyes involuntarily widened in shock. They dimmed to a gentle gaze as the smallest of smiles broke upon his face. "Thank you. Then … _I_ should hope …" The French mistress found her curiosities peaked. Kiyomaro allowed his smile to extend just a bit more. "I should hope that Brago will find happiness under-" He stopped himself. "… In Makai."

Sherry felt a grinned ease its way upon her face as well. "Thank you." The waterworks began in her eyes. "Thank you …"

--

"Well then, I wish you good luck, Kiyomaro."

It had been a few hours, but Jii, who found himself quite the exhausted one, had finally managed to bring the bookowners to the Paris International Airport, where Kiyomaro was to board his homebound flight.

"And don't worry." Sherry continued. "High school isn't nearly as bad as it seems."

Kiyomaro laughed. "Yeah, maybe." He glanced down at the tickets within his hand. "First class?" He redirected his attention at Sherry. "You didn't have to …"

"It's not a problem," she reassured him. "Besides, it's an overnight flight. It would be awful if you were caught having to sit up the entire time."

"I guess so," Kiyomaro said. He looked up at the grand spectacle of a ceiling that lay above him. Massive steel bars crossed over one another, resembling a picnic basket, almost. The airport itself was decorated with various shops and delis, all attracting minimal attention. People of all nationalities raced across the floor, most either trying to caught their flight or find out where on Earth it was. They were just part of the crowd.

"… This is it, isn't it?"

Sherry, who had been carried away with the flight details, blinked at the statement. "What?"

Kiyomaro wore an almost disappointed look. "This … is it."

Sherry paused. "Yes … yes, it is." She then smiled. "You wouldn't mind sending a letter or two, would you?"

The boy nodded. "Not at all."

"Then there's nothing to worry about," the woman comforted, though it was clear she was a little saddened by the thought, as well. "And I'm sure that _they_ will be fine as well."

Kiyomaro concurred with but a simple smirk.

Suddenly, a voice came booming from a microphone just a few desks away from the bookowners. Kiyomaro, not yet having the chance to study French, understood practically none of it. And when it was repeated in English, the accent was too thick for the teen to make out what was trying to be said.

Sherry giggled, recognizing his dilemma. "Your flight is boarding, Kiyomaro."

He smiled nervously in response. "Thank you, Sherry."

The two then walked over toward the check-in. Kiyomaro watched as Sherry handed the woman the ticket, striking a lengthy conversation in the language he didn't understand. _I'll be sure to study French when I get home._ He promised himself.

Just before Kiyomaro went though the gate, Sherry pulled him back. "Have a safe trip."

"Yeah, thank you …" He paused. "… For everything."

There was a long silence. Memories from their struggles almost seem to attack their consciousness. Both the bookowners' toils and troubles; it all come back in a heartbeat. It was as if their entire battle had flashed before them …

"**Goodbye, Sherry. **_**Radomu!**_**"**

"**Stop lying to yourself, Kiyomaro!"**

"**Sherry, you saved me again, didn't you?!"**

"**How can I become a kind king without you?!"**

"**Brago, I promise I will make you king!"**

"**Gash! You're my friend!"**

Sherry turned toward the parking lot, tears in her eyes. "Goodbye …"

Kiyomaro started towards the gate, his backpack on hand. After running through security, he immediately disappeared into the mass of people, also looking for their flight to Nihon.

"Prince of the Red Book."

--

"Welcome home, Kiyomaro, Gash-chan!" Takamine Hana's voice rang through Kiyomaro's ears as he trudged through the front door. He shook a bit as his mother came to greet him. A rather curious look hung over her face after she looked around the doorway for a second body.

"Huh? Where's Gash-chan?"

Kiyomaro turned away. "He's home now, mom," he quickly fibbed, gritting his teeth afterwards. "We … found his mother."

Hana beamed with joy. "That's wonderful!! I'll make you some tea and we can talk all about it!"

Kiyomaro dropped his things at the edge of the stairs. "Can it wait, mom? I'm … I'm kinda tired right now."

"Oh," his mother replied, heading back to the kitchen. "Maybe later, then."

"Yeah." The teenager kicked off his shoes and plodded up to the second floor. He stopped his steps just before entering is room. It felt as if a hole had been drilled in Kiyomaro's heart as it pounded in his chest. The hall stretched in all directions, filled with the nothingness that remained of the demons. Slowly, he reached for the knob.

He stood in his doorway as he examined his living quarters. His futon lay neatly made, as usual, finished with a stainless white pillow just where the sheets ended. His desk, covered in texts on physiology and martial arts, was intact, which strangely, defied his expectations. His curtains remained stretched open, letting the mid-day sun shine with blinding force, the light flooding into the room.

But the one thing that caught Kiyomaro's eye, more than anything, was a secondary futon, coated in a fish-like design. It was sloppily made, the corners ruffled and pillow bent in several unattractive manners. Pajamas also wrinkled on top of it, and marked with crusted drool on top of a white dye.

After moments of staring at the bed, Kiyomaro felt his knees give in. He gradually sunk to the ground. He would not dare move, let alone touch the futon. It was too precious to him, to valuable to even disturb, he felt.

"Gash …" he absent-mindedly whispered. A tear rolled down his cheek.

"Unuu?"

Kiyomaro's pupils dilated as he let the words sink in. He froze, only letting his vision continue on upward. His eyes found tiny green shoes, followed by a mantle, likewise colored in a grass green. This was followed by a lightly crème stained bow, as well as a sparkling yellow brooch. Finally, innocent orangey-flame eyes filled his view, holding a childish happiness.

Gash. The kind king had returned.

"Unu, I'm sorry I didn't make my futon this morning. I guess we were kinda in a hurry. Here." The demon child bent down to his bed. "Let me make it."

And Kiyomaro watched as the mamono slowly and childishly remade the corners, disposed of his laundry, and fluffed the pillows. He couldn't bring himself to move. He just couldn't. All he saw was his little brother, bouncing around his bedroom floor, something he never thought he would see again.

"There," Gash confirmed, placing the pillow in its rightful spot. "All done." The boy turned towards his book owner, beaming all the while. "Is that ok, Kiyomaro?"

The owner of the red book continued to gaze at him in shock, until his face finally broke into a hearty smile.

"Gash …" he began.

"Unuu, it's nice to see you, Kiyomaro." Gash replied.

"Gash …" The teenager quickly leaned in to embrace his partner. "Gash!!"

Air.

Kiyomaro opened his eyes as he hugged his bedroom atmosphere. No one was there. There wasn't anyone making the bed. There wasn't anyone smiling at his depression. There wasn't anyone to come front him. There wasn't anyone to meet his embrace. No one.

And there never would be.

Kiyomaro slowly retreated from his stance. His eyes quickly filled with water as they saw the reality.

"Ga …"

He pounded his fist against the ground in anger of his delusion. His face reflected despair as tears streamed down his face.

"Gash …"

Kiyomaro threw his head back in a rush of dark passion.

"GASH!!"

From there, the name was endless screamed, mourning and bawling over what was lost. He knew he would never see him again. And as tears poured down his face, Takamine Kiyomaro knew that it that it was finally over. At least he could fulfill his own promise.


End file.
